


Perte d'

by Anonymous



Series: Forbidden Kinks [18]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 23:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16185836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: They’ve been together for nearly 2 years when Derek brings the mask home. It’s something they’ve discussed before, how sometimes both of them want something more than the various ropes and chains they have, so whilst it was a bit of a surprise it wasn’t a complete shock to Stiles.They try it out without sex first, to make sure that it’s not too tight or uncomfortable for him, but the mask is softer and more forgiving than either of them expected it to be.So Stiles gives Derek the green light.





	Perte d'

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober 2018 Day 3  
>  **Sensory Deprivation** | ~~Temperature Play~~ | ~~Edgeplay~~ | ~~Knifeplay~~

They’ve been together for nearly 2 years when Derek brings the mask home. It’s something they’ve discussed before, how sometimes both of them want something more than the various ropes and chains they have, so whilst it was a bit of a surprise it wasn’t a complete shock to Stiles.

They try it out without sex first, to make sure that it’s not too tight or uncomfortable for him, but the mask is softer and more forgiving than either of them expected it to be.

So Stiles gives Derek the green light. 

~~

There’s some more supplies that are needed, and with Derek’s work and Stiles’ classes it’s another few days before they’re able to actually use the mask. Derek is as gentle as he always is as he ties Stiles up, using the softest ropes they have to bind his arms behind his back, arranging him so that he’s holding his elbows with his opposite hands. The ropes are looped around both his arms and his chest, so tight he can only move them a millimeter or so. He lays down on top of them, and watches and moans slightly as Derek caresses both of his legs, before tying them to the bottom posts of the bed. More ropes are added to the ones around his chest, and they’re attached to the headboard, and he’s essentially immobile.

Derek had selected his favourite gag, one with a stubby dildo attachment that went just to the brink of Stiles’ gag reflex but not so far into the throat to be damaging in any way. There’s a small hole set through the middle of it that would allow Stiles to get extra oxygen if it was necessary. Stiles swallows hard as he brings it up towards his face, but opens up quickly and doesn’t block it as it’s settled into his mouth and the strap is buckled.

It tickles a little as Derek inserts the earplugs, and Stiles had known they were the industrial sort but he’s still not prepared for how completely they block off the sound around him. It’s eerily silent to him now, and he’s not quite sure he likes it, but with the gag already in he can’t find it in him to protest. There’s a moment of panic as he realizes this isn’t it, that not hearing or speaking isn’t all he’s going to have to go through, but he’d agreed to this. And despite the panic, he wants it – his cock is practically dripping already.

Almost like he can’t help himself, suddenly Derek is kissing him. It’s awkward with the gag in the way, of course, but there’s still contact between their lips. He moves up to place two light kisses over Stiles’ eyes, and his eyelids flutter at how sweet it feels. It’s a weird contradiction to what they’re about to be doing, but it fits with how they are.

When the mask is finally over his face, tight-fitting, he can’t see anything. It’s just as dark as it was when he’d tried it on before, but now with the absence of sound, the darkness seems greater. He’s aware of his breaths getting shallower, more like pants, but he doesn’t get a chance to try to calm them.

Derek’s hands are back on his thighs, and the gentleness from the minutes before is gone now. He’s grabbing onto them roughly, spreading them farther apart and wedging himself in between them. Once he’s there, the hands leave, and Stiles jumps slightly as Derek runs one up his chest unexpectedly, a finger dipping into his belly button for a moment before withdrawing as it continues upwards.

Stiles’ nipples aren’t all that sensitive, and normally he doesn’t care whether or not they get touched, but the moment Derek pinches one between his fingers it’s like a switch is turned on. His breaths are still coming too fast, and he’s gladder for the air hole in the gag than he’s ever been before. It’s a teasing touch first, light grabs of it. But suddenly, Derek grabs it hard between his fingers and knuckles and twists.

He lurches upwards, pulling his shoulders backwards at the same time, as if trying to simultaneously escape the hand and move towards it. He has only a second of warning of hot breath on the other one before there are teeth around it, and Derek doesn’t let up on the twisting of the left one before he clamps down on the right.

The mask feels sticky as his tears come suddenly; he’d done his research, and he’d known that most people cried in situations like this, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. He’s overwhelmed by how much it hurts, and yet at the same time, how much he doesn’t want it to stop. 

Derek’s sucking on the nipple as he bites around it now, and it’s all Stiles can focus on; that, and the hand mauling his other one is getting. And then both the hand and mouth are removed, and just as quickly the teeth are cutting into the already sore left nipple. That pain is worthy of a scream, and Stiles can feel his vocal cords working, can hear the vibrations through his skull, but knows the gag mutes it. Derek pulls back a little and there’s an odd vibration of breath over the abused nipple, and Stiles’ mind translates it into a laugh.

Throughout this, he hadn’t realized he’d lost track of Derek’s hands, but suddenly there’s the familiar cold shock of lube dripping over his balls. It hasn’t been warmed up at all, and while he knows realistically it’s room temperature, it feels like ice over his hot skin. More tears leave his eyes, and he knows he’s trying to beg for an actual touch, a hand down there to warm it up properly, but it sounds like nothing but gibberish to Derek.

The first actual touch to his cock and balls comes soon after, though, almost like Derek could understand him. It’s less a touch than a mauling, though. Derek practically crushes them in one hand, pushing them roughly up and away from where they must be dangling over his hole, and leaning his weight on them. From the angle, Stiles realizes Derek must be lubing his own cock up, and that it had just been dripping down onto him. Derek leans back slightly, flicking a tongue over his abused nipple, and then disappears. The hand is still crushing his groin, but that’s all.

When they’d discussed the scene before, they’d known it might go quick. Derek had told him that he didn’t think he’d be able to handle having Stiles so totally at his mercy for very long, that he might not be able to hold back the first time, might just need to go for it. Stiles understands what he meant by go for it as he feels Derek’s cock at his entrance. There’s no teasing there, no waiting; one moment he’s empty, and the next, Derek’s buried to the hilt inside of him. Stiles had been wearing a plug before they’d started setting up for the scene, and it’s the only thing that prevents this entrance from being painful.

And Derek doesn’t rest for a moment to let him adjust as he would normally do; instead, he sets a pace like a jackhammer, a wild animal rutting over and over into its chosen mate. The hand on his junk is now crushing it and twisting slightly, moving the pressure around, so the pain is mixed with a heady kind of pleasure that makes Stiles want to pass out from how frustrating it is. The other hand goes under one of his thighs, lifting it up as much as the rope will allow so Derek can get a better angle. His entire focus is on the burning of his hole, the bruising of his cock, and the pumping rhythm of Derek. Derek, Derek, Derek.

His entire world in that moment is Derek, and he doesn’t want that to end, as much as he wishes he could have some relief.

As quickly as it began, Derek’s smooth, quick movements begin jarring as his orgasm builds, before he slams in all the way and stops completely, shaking. When the first flush of heat from Derek’s cum floods into him, Stiles feels like he’s been on the brink of cumming the whole time, just waiting for a sign, and suddenly he’s falling apart at the seams, flooding his stomach with his own cum. 

It’s like a million fireworks going off in his brain, and he’s suddenly too hot and freezing at the same time. He’s aware, vaguely, of Derek withdrawing from him, and the tilting of the bed suggests that he’s now somewhere beside him, but he can’t think too much about it through the waves of his orgasm.

He wants to scream as he feels something brush over his cock again, still pulsing, but the gag is still in.

In contrast to the mauling of before, Derek’s hand around his cock is gentle. It’s still rough, coming so soon after the first orgasm, and he chokes as a second one is stripped from him with gentle, soothing strokes that somehow hurt more. He can’t hold onto his mind with that one, and he feels himself drift away, knowing Derek will take care of the clean up, and looking forward to the next time they bring out the mask.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, very little editing on this one, so hopefully it makes sense and there isn't too many mistakes.


End file.
